


Wake Next to You

by Hazel_Athena



Series: LMTTG 'Verse [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Everybody Lives, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: In which breakfast is had, bets are lost, and someone steals a horse.





	Wake Next to You

**Author's Note:**

> In a move that will surprise absolutely no one, I'm back playing in the Lead Me to the Gallows universe. First up is the morning after immediately where the main story cuts off.

Vasquez wakes up with sunlight beaming directly into his face. Blinking hard to combat suddenly watering eyes, he raises his head from where it's comfortably pillowed on something warm and yielding, and glares at where the window rests with one side of its curtains completely askew. Reaching up to tug the offending cloth back into place, he lets out a relieved sigh as the brightness recedes from his vision, allowing him to flop back down with a contented hum.

"Hmm?" A hand comes up to curl around the expanse of his back, and it's only now Vasquez realizes it's Faraday he's sprawled all over, the man's chest rising and falling beneath him as he slowly comes awake. "Y'alright, Vas?"

"Sí, guero," Vasquez rushes to say, feeling guilty for having woken his companion. "Go back to sleep. There's no need to be up yet."

However, it seems Faraday has other ideas. Tired though he clearly is - and the heavy yawn he lets out only serves to better illustrate this point - he brings his other hand out from where it's still buried in the blankets and tangles his fingers together with Vasquez's, his thumb stroking idly over Vasquez's skin. "How'd you sleep? Okay except for the one bad dream?"

"Best sleep I've had in ages," Vasquez admits, matching Faraday's ensuing smile with one of his own. "You?"

"The same," Faraday replies, his smile growing as he tries to give a one shoulder shrug only to wind up thwarted in his efforts thanks to the close confines of their bodies. "Been a while since I shared a bed with someone like this, but I reckon I can get used to it."

It's a surprisingly open line coming from someone such as Faraday, a man who's turned keeping his cards close to his chest into something verging on an art form. Vasquez initially doesn't know what to do with it, but in the end decides to go with his first reaction since he's allowed to do that now. Pulling his hand free of Faraday's grasp, he moves to cup it over the man's cheek instead and leans up for a kiss.

Just as he had the night before, Faraday opens for him without so much as a token protest, parting his lips and humming appreciatively as Vasquez licks into his mouth with a sudden need to taste him. Broad hands settle on Vasquez's back then shift upwards in gentle sweeps, calloused fingers trailing over the skin in a way he decidedly enjoys.

Right up until he doesn't. Faraday's left hand trails a little too far to the side, running right over a bruise stemming from an undeserved kick to the ribs, and Vasquez lets out a pained grunt before he can stop himself.

Faraday freezes, instantly pulling back to look up at Vasquez with a concerned frown. "Shit. Sorry, darlin', I wasn't thinkin' properly. Let me take a look."

"It's fine," Vasquez tries to protest, fully inclined to return to what they've been doing, but Faraday's already moving out from under him.

"I'll be the judge of that. C'mon, on your back." Sitting up, he nudges at Vasquez until he obediently rolls over, the blankets pooling somewhere below his waist and leaving his entire torso on display. "Can't make out a damned thing in this light, hang on."

Without taking his eyes off of Vasquez, he reaches behind him with one hand, feeling around until his trailing fingers find the edge of the curtains Vasquez had previously closed and drags them wide open. Sunlight streams back into the room, making Vasquez whine. "Guero, too bright."

Unperturbed, Faraday makes sure the curtain is shoved over as far as it'll go, then proceeds to do the same thing with the other one, not stopping until the whole room is awash with early morning light. "I want to see what kind of mess you're hidin' here. I was too distracted last night."

"Could've been distracted just now too," Vasquez grumbles. Folding his hands back behind his head, he cants his hips up in a shameless attempt at attention grabbing and flashes Faraday his best grin. "Like what you see, querido?"

"No," Faraday says flatly, only to immediately retract his statement. "Well, I mean yes, but also no. I don't like this," and here cool fingers brush lightly over the bruise by his ribs, "or this," the same fingers slide along an abrasion that starts at his shoulder and trails down his chest, "I definitely don't like this," now a fingertip hovers over the most recent wound, the gash on his forehead that comes close to bisecting his eyebrow, "or any other mark I can see."

Vasquez shrugs. He appreciates Faraday's concern, but in the grand scheme of things the injuries are nothing to worry about. They'll fade, most of them relatively quickly, and in the end he'll be left no worse for wear. "There's nothing here that will bring permanent damage. Don't trouble yourself, cariño."

In lieu of a verbal response, Faraday shifts down to press a kiss to the cut on Vasquez's forehead before drawing back with a sad look in his eyes. "I hate 'em, hate seein' you hurt, hate 'em especially knowin' how close you came to not makin' it out of that mess alive."

Vasquez snorts then, dragging one hand out from behind his head and prodding Faraday in the chest with a finger. "And do you think I like seeing this mess, mi amor?" He asks, tapping one of the many scars that bullets and shrapnel from Bogue's gatling gun had left behind. "You think I like being reminded of you torn up and bloody thanks to a fight that was never yours to begin with? Oye, no, Joshua, we all have our scars. If I can handle yours, you can handle mine."

Faraday's quiet for several seconds, but eventually his mouth twists into a wry grin. It lacks some of its usual emphasis, but is just as clearly genuine enough. "No fair you usin' logic on me like that, jackass. It's too early in the mornin' for this."

"Not my fault if you can't keep up, guero," Vasquez says with a snicker. He wriggles his hips enticingly. "Now, where were we?"

His grin broadening, Faraday slips down and steals a kiss, then another and other, each time pulling back when Vasquez tries to get his hands on him. Laughing when Vasquez growls in frustration, he noses at his temple before saying softly, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can," Vasquez replies, wondering why he's even bothered to ask. Faraday's been telling him secrets since long before this; he knows Vasquez will keep them safe.

Faraday's grin turns downright wicked, and he huffs out a laugh. "We're not gettin’ up to anythin’ heavy until those bruises heal, 'specially the ones by your ribs."

Vasquez gapes at him in disbelief. His throats works as he considers half a dozen possible responses in the span of mere moments, eventually settling on a strangled, "You cannot be serious."

"Contrary to popular belief, yes I can," Faraday replies. He still looks amused, but there's a certain sternness to him now that makes Vasquez think, indeed, he is absolutely serious in what he's just said. "You've got a whole host of cuts and bruises I can see, plus a bunch more that I'm sure I can't. You weigh a lot less than you should, still have circles under your eyes despite all the sleep you've gotten in the past couple days, and don't think for a minute I've forgotten about you gettin' an arm snapped out of place."

"You need to heal, Vas," he continues on, all traces of humour now fading from his voice. "You need to  _let_  yourself heal. There'll be no tearin' off hell west and crooked or anythin' of the sort until that happens."

Feeling distinctly put out, and not even because sex is apparently off the table, not really, Vasquez rolls his eyes. "You are one to talk about taking enough time to recover, guero. We had to all but tie you to the bed to get you to hold still after Rose Creek."

"And that was the right call on your part," Faraday agrees easily, much to Vasquez's exasperation. "Lord knows how many stitches I'd've torn open if I'd moved around as much as  _I_  wanted to."

"I don't have any stitches," Vasquez points out mulishly, but all this gets him is another kiss on the forehead for his troubles. 

"And we can both be thankful for that," Faraday says primly. "Though I still ain't convinced the cut on your face couldn't use some."

"Ugh, Joshua, enough," huffing in exasperation, Vasquez shakes a finger warningly at his lover. "No more of this talk. I'll abide by your wishes, but you have to stop making it sound as if I am made of glass."

Faraday makes a face like he wants to say something but then thinks better of it. "Fine," he says instead. "But I reserve the right to point out if you're overdoin' it, and that you'll just have to handle."

"You sound like a broody hen with only one chick to mind," Vasquez grumbles. He very pointedly does  _not_  mention the warm feeling currently taking up residence in the pit of his stomach in the face of Faraday's obvious concern. "But fine, if this is what you want then so be it, I want breakfast."

"Nothin' new there," Faraday laughs. "Y'goddamned stomach on legs."

"First you tell me I need taking care of and then you insult me," Vasquez grumbles, rolling over and struggling into a sitting position. "Too many mixed signals, that is your problem."

Faraday, still seated behind him, presses up against Vasquez's back and slings a careful arm around him, his fingers stroking over the skin in a gentle caress. "Ain't sendin' no mixed signals, darlin' I want this, want you. I just want to know you're alright at the same time. Though," he adds with a snicker, "I suspect I'm always goin' to be somethin' of a brayin' jackass, so you'll have to take the good with the bad."

Grinning where he knows Faraday can't see it, Vasquez has a sneaking suspicion this won't be a problem.

*****

For the first time since they've been in town, there's only one table occupied in the main floor of the boarding house when they come downstairs. Goodnight waves them over as soon as he spots them, and Red and Billy both nod when they approach.

"Well, that's two more up," Goodnight says as they claim seats across from him. "Now all we need is to have Jack emerge from hibernation and that's everyone accounted for."

"Where's Sam?" Faraday asks. He's leaning casually to the side in his chair; just enough that his shoulder brushes Vasquez's each time he shifts, the subtle touch frankly more blatant than Vasquez was expecting him to be in public now that he knows the feelings underlying it. "I assume based on your comment that he's around somewhere."

"He's off digging up information about the nearest available Marshalls." Goodnight says. He spoons a couple mouthfuls of porridge into his mouth, and then slides his nearly empty bowl towards Billy in a blatant offer to share. Only once he receives a grunted "no, thanks" does he continue speaking. "He figures it might be a good idea to pop in there on our way to Rose Creek, to provide them with all the information we picked up on Rask's operation. There's a decent chance that if we present evidence on what those sheriffs have been up to, we might be able to get paid for taking them down."

Vasquez perks up at this. His recent captivity had cost him all his of personal belongings, any funds he had on him among them, so he could certainly use the money. However, that train of thought sets a new one off in his head, reminding him of a more pressing issue. "I don't have a horse anymore," he says, wrinkling his nose. "That's going to be a problem."

For some reason this makes Billy snort into his breakfast dishes while Goodnight shoots a funny look at Red. "As it happens," the Cajun says slowly, "that's not going to be much of an issue."

"S'not going to be an issue period," Billy mutters around his meal, and Goodnight once again glances at Red.

"Did you want to tell him?" He asks, sighing when all he gets is a shrug in response. "Fine, hide away from your generosity then."

Vasquez glances over at Faraday to see if he has any idea what's going on, but all he finds is a mirror of his own confusion. He turns back to Goodnight. "I'm sorry, amigo; I can't say I'm following."

Goodnight makes a face. "No, of course not. Well, the gist of it is, Red here stole you a horse, and brought her back with him when he came into town after us the other night. I suppose, in his defence, dear William has no more use for the lovely lady."

There's a burst of laughter from Faraday's direction, and when Vasquez looks over he finds the man futilely trying to smother another guffaw into his fist. "Red, Red, please tell me you did what I'm thinkin' and nabbed one of Rask's horses when you set them loose."

"Not just the horse," Goodnight says, his voice a mix of disapproving and amused, "he snatched all her tack too. Vasquez here might not have much at hand, but that part's been dealt with."

Vasquez turns to stare incredulously at Red. "Is he serious?"

Red responds with an unconcerned shrug. "She's a nice horse."

"Nice," Billy snorts. "We've seen her, remember? She's got to be worth three other horses."

"Yes," Red says simply. "She's a nice horse."

A serving girl materializes out of the back room carrying two bowls of porridge on a tray, coming over to set them down in front of Vasquez and Faraday. As she does so, Goodnight snaps his fingers in the way of a man who's just remembered something he'd meant to bring up much earlier. He jabs a finger at Faraday. "All this talk of horses reminds me - that demon creature you're so fond of was misbehaving out in the stables this morning. You should probably check on him sooner rather than later."

Faraday pauses where he's blowing on a spoonful of porridge to cool it. "He's probably just miffed because I haven't checked in with him in a couple days. He gets right churlish when he hasn't had enough attention."

"Yes, but for him churlish can equate to serious physical and property damage." Goodnight points out. "If I live to be a hundred, I'll never understand why you love that temperamental beast so much."

"Jack isn't temperamental, amigo," Vasquez cuts in around a mouthful of porridge. He swallows before continuing. "He just wants people to respect his boundaries and makes it clear when they don't."

"What he said," Faraday says, gesturing at Vasquez with a spoon and flashing him a grateful smile. "All you've got to do is know how to handle him. He's good for Vas."

"So're you," Goodnight says, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't mean anything, and it doesn't change the fact that you should probably look in on the damned horse and make sure he's not causing a ruckus."

"Oh all right, if it means that much to you, Goody, I'll go right now." Letting his spoon sink back into the half eaten meal in front of him, Faraday swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and shoves his chair back from the table. Standing, he leans down to brush a kiss into Vasquez's hair, and then makes his way out of the building.

Startled to say the least, Vasquez locks his gaze on his breakfast, and doesn't look up again until he hears an irritated huff followed by the sound of coins clinking. He raises his head just in time to see Goodnight fish the money out of his vest pocket and slip it into Red's open palm with a sigh.

"I  _told_  you not to put money on Faraday being able to keep his hands to himself," Billy says mildly, rolling his eyes when Goodnight gives him an affronted glare.

"Forgive me for thinking the man still has some dignity left," Goodnight sniffs. He shifts his unimpressed look to Red. "And don't you just sit there all quiet and smug like. I know what goes on in that head of yours."

"Doubt it." Red replies.

Vasquez is reasonably certain the tips of his ears are burning. He clears his throat, waiting to speak until all three sets of eyes are on him. "You're not surprised?"

Red and Billy give him matching implacable stares, while between them Goodnight buries his face in his hands. "God as my witness," he mutters into his fingers, "what do we even say to that? No, Vasquez, we're not surprised."

"Be more surprised if you hadn't fixed things by now." Red grunts. He balances one of the coins he'd taken from Goodnight on the table top and sets it spinning with a flick of his wrist. "Plus, we knew he was in your room last night."

"I see." Vasquez considers whether or not this is going to be a problem and almost immediately dismisses the notion. These people are his friends, family really; they're no more likely to care about what he and Faraday choose to do together than he is what they do with anyone else. "Good. That saves us from having to explain it to you."

Goodnight gives him a flat look. "Boy, I have forgotten more when it comes to romance than you could possibly tell me. Joshua too. Just accept our congratulations on the pair of you pulling your heads out of your asses without needing assistance and let that be the end of it."

"Damn, but you're in a mood this mornin', Robicheaux." Faraday's heavy drawl drifts over them as he reappears at the table, reclaiming his seat and draping and arm over Vasquez's shoulders with ease. "What's got your nethers in a twist?"

"Jack bit him earlier." Red says. "The horse, not the human. He got too close when he was feeding his own mare and got his hair caught."

“Well, I’m sure he deserved it,” Faraday replies, and proceeds to ignore Goodnight’s flustered sputtering in favor of caressing his thumb over the back of Vasquez’s neck while he finishes off his breakfast.


End file.
